City Secrets
by TheBatKid
Summary: "The cities aren't safe, the cities aren't safe!" Twins Frank and Elion have been told that all their life, forced to live inside the grey walls of a Zone since they were taken from their father. But what will they find outside of those walls? Will they find a purpose in a world that's been destroyed? Elion can only hope that their troubles will end.
1. The Miracles

City Secrets

People always told them not to go in the cities. They would sit them down during mealtimes and lectures, boring them senseless with why they shouldn't deviate from the quarantine zone.

"It's not safe out there Frank," was a normal sermon they were forced through, "You listen too, Elion. There's dead people all over there being eaten and such, not to mention the hunters you might run into. It's best you both stay put. Besides, wouldn't want anything happening to the miracles, would we?"

Frank and Elion were the 'Miracle Twins,' otherwise known as the only twins to be born after the outbreak. Once a set of quadruplets, their mother had died soon after childbirth and left them to the care of their father; a man who, despite his best efforts, lost two of those bundles to the hands of infected and had no choice but to come to a Zone. He thought that they'd be protected. He thought that the terror might've ended.

He was wrong.

The boys couldn't remember what happened very well. Faintly they saw the face of a man in their dreams, hushing their cries as he stumbled his way up a muddy hill, wiping his face with a handkerchief whilst he set them down for another breather. Dampness seeped up their back and their cries could be heard for miles, the pathetic little squeaks that would alert every runner or clicker that still lingered outside.

"Shhh little ones," their father's sweat dripped from his heads onto their soft features, which had been protected only by a single blue sheet and a fresh pair of baby-grows, "Don't cry for Daddy, don't cry! We'll be caught out." It must've been something in his voice because, soon after that terrified begging, both Frank and Elion had settled down to the point of napping…at least, that's what Frank always told his brother.

The eldest could remember more than Elion – he recalled the rain pouring down over their heads and the screech of helicopters up above, all the while being filled with a sense of intense foreboding. A hot smell of rotting flesh invaded their noses as their father clambered down into a pit, where he'd hoped they'd find some shelter until they reached the next quarantine zone.

"Shit…shit shit shit," the man's wizened voice muttered when he entered another sewer, despite the fact it was relatively empty, "Only a matter of time before…well we won't think about that, will we boys? No reason for me to lose you two as well."

It was dark in that tunnel. The echoing cries of his sons could be heard through the entrance and exit, albeit he was more comfortable about them being caught from the exit. At least then they'd a good chance of finding humans, rather than the nightmarish monsters that had claimed his daughter and third son.

"Who's there? Who the fuck's there?!" suddenly a scream sounded, one that was so gruff that the boys could only scream in reply. Their two month old hands stretched outwards to their father who, at that point, wanted nothing more than to collapse and sleep. The slings around his front weighed him closer to the ground, forcing him to hobble as they approached the shadow by the exit. It jerked violently like a clicker and had the stink of a runner, but thank God it didn't shoot them on sight.

"Don't shoot! Please…don't shoot," their father begged whilst he stumbled over the dead rat carcasses, the ones that festered with all sorts of larva and maggots, "I've got kids with me! I've got twins! Please just…just let us go!"

The shadow faltered. Its murky silhouette made one swift movement to its waist, as if grabbing something that they couldn't see in the solid darkness, before their father heard words he'd hoped never to hear again, "We've got survivors here, sir; three people, two of them children. What? Yeah, babies. Twins."

Like it was their cue, Frank and Elion began to whine again. Their father gently stroked their hollow faces whilst they waited for the man to talk to them, since it all depended on what mood his superior was in that night. They couldn't leave babies to die out there alone, surely? It just wasn't what they were aiming for. It wasn't in accordance with 'rebuilding society,' even though that society had been fucked over ten years before.

Finally, it seemed like his prayers had been answered, "Alright, boss wants to see the twins. We've been looking for a pair. Anything we need to know about these two first, like are they infected or something? Where's their mother? Was she infected when she had them?"

There were tears in his eyes as their father answered his questions, as if the thought of infected caused him great sadness. He couldn't even imagine his beautiful wife lying in that old hospital, a place they thought they'd find peace and solace during the birth, or his two children that had been lost throughout their horrifying journey. A shaky hand rested against the solid concrete as he persevered, each answer falling out of his mouth like jagged rock pieces.

"So…they're quadruplets? Four kids? But only two are alive now?" by that time the darkness had melted off a bit, so much so that the father could make out slight details of a gas mask and a set of army logos. A nod was shared between them before even more army men appeared, each armed to the teeth as they swarmed that concrete tube and began 'relieving' the man of his burden.

He struggled against the grabbing hands, though he could do nothing to stop them unhooking the sling and capturing his two precious gems, "What are you doing?! Give them back – they're my sons! What the fuck are you doing?!" his hands reached out to snatch the screaming babies back but, as if he were an infected intruder, the soldiers smashed him into the ground with their guns trained at his head. Tears sprang from his eyes; what were they doing? Why were they taking his boys?

The man he'd been speaking to seemed more sympathetic than the rest. It might've been because he'd seen that hungry look in his eyes, that spark of energy waning as he valiantly struggled for his children's safety, yet there was something about him that the soldier couldn't deny. He didn't want to kill this man. He didn't want to shoot him after stealing his precious babies; it wasn't the 'humanity' that he could remember, and it certainly wasn't what he was trying to do out there.

"You've got to go," his voice was comforting, "You've got to get out of here, man. If my boss finds out we let you go…shit, if he finds out you're still alive, we're all in trouble. Go, quickly! Hurry up!"

The soldiers lowered their weapons as he scrambled to his feet, but those eyes told them all they needed to know. The pain in them was enough to send any man off the deep end; it was the pain of a father who had suddenly lost everything, every little piece of his heart in the wasteland they called civilisation.

"I can't…you've got my boys…"

"They'll be safe with us, man. They're fucking twins! We'll look after them; give them an actual life here in the Zone. I promise you that."

The father had no other option. With a sigh he turned, facing the world that had claimed not only his wife, but his week old daughter and month old son – he debated whether or not he wanted to be shot right there, if it meant that he wouldn't have to go through the pain of leaving his sons behind.

As the rain poured down over his face and made his black hair flop over his eyes, he turned back to shout something, "Hey, you!"

"Yeah?" the army man turned with the gun in his hands, "What else?"

"You tell them that their dad loves them! You tell them that!"

And with that he disappeared, off into the world that had been overrun with madness. The lumbering beasts that he once feared where suddenly in the back of his mind, since the only reason he'd lived were for those two little boys.

So Frank and Elion lived in the Zone, their only guidance from that very soldier who'd met their father. They grew up in a pathetic little hovel which, to some people at the very least, would seem like nothing shy of a pre-apocalypse mansion. Its crumbled walls and broken windows provided some shelter from the harsh weather, whilst the soldier (called Finn, as he'd told them) would come home every night to feed them, telling them stories of that night and how their father had faced his fate gracefully.

Their days were spent either being examined by a wide range of doctors or boring themselves in school, where they'd learn how they were special and how they'd have been even more special if their siblings survived. But throughout that time, Frank could feel like something was coming. Whenever he flicked his black hair to the side, whenever he looked at his blond-crested 'little' brother and winked at him across the wrecked school rooms, he could sense that something was travelling to their 'peaceful' existence.

And he was fucking ready for it.


	2. Seven Years Later

"Come on Frank – it's not safe out here!" Elion stood on the edge of a broken concrete wall, watching as his brother began snooping around the forbidden sewer tunnels, "We're going to get in trouble if you keep taking us out!"

"Shut up! You're attracting Runners!" the hiss came in a low tone since, for a long time, Frank had been more sensible about the ways of the world. He'd taken the term 'older brother' to such extremes that Elion didn't know how to protect himself, much less how to scout quietly in an infected area. The child sashayed through those familiar grey tunnels with confidence – he'd been there many times before, usually without the company of his blonde crested comrade.

Like a ninja he dodged a crumbled rock-piece, which had fallen some nights ago on his last outer city run. His blue eyes glinted in the darkness as he glared at the broken fragments, wondering how long it'd take before the whole place collapsed and they'd be left in the Zone. Elion wanted to shout to his brother but, since they were so deeply situated within one of the 'Infected' Zones, he daren't even breathe too loudly for fear of a Clicker. It was terrifying to think they could be killed at any time.

Yet, Frank didn't seem to care much about that. It was as if he didn't fear the infected; Elion's brown eyes gazed at him through the gathering night, knowing that something could happen and take his precious Frank away from him.

"I'm scared," that time his voice was a whisper, although it was more out of fear than anything else, "Can we please go home now? Finn's probably wondering where we are…the doctor's might be…I don't know…looking for us?" he knew that was the only way to get his brother's attention, as they both detested the way they were forced to report for medical check-ups and similar routines.

It worked as well, because on that note Frank jumped from the claustrophobic tunnel and rushed to his brother, a wide smile on his face to show that it'd been another successful run. In his hand dangled the 'bounty'; a fresh set of sharp metals and some more appropriate 'clues', all of which would help them find their father and get out of that Hellhole. It wasn't much but…it was enough to keep the hope going for them, that one day they would be with their real family rather than the military force.

"Found some more footprints too," he babbled as they scrambled down the crumbled walls, their feet on that well-worn trail that had once been a footpath and their voices hushed, "At this rate, we'll find him in no time."

"I hope you're right Frank, because I'm getting tired of coming out here every night. What if the Clickers get us? There's loads around here!" to emphasise his point, he gestured towards the ruins of what they thought to be an old train station, long since left to the decay of time and forced to become occupied by the living dead. The grey fabric of his jacket scraped against the overhanging bypass as he did so, like they'd not been content with squashing just Infected when they'd collapsed. He flinched.

"Relax, Elion. We'll be fine if you keep being the lookout and I keep being the adventurer, okay? Just need to make sure you can-"

They froze. Frank felt the familiar sting of panic stab his heart whilst sirens blared, something they'd heard before and had hated ever since, although Elion seemed to cock his head to one side at the noise. It was coming from the Zone…

And as always, he trusted that his elder brother would know what was going on, "Why are the sirens on? They're going to attract Runners!" but there wasn't a flicker of understanding in the twin's eyes, which caused Elion to fly into his usual panic and start up a fast pace towards the walls. Had they discovered they were missing? Were the military rolling out the tanks and guns, as they'd so often threatened before? Was Finn begging for his life at the hand of his superiors?

"Get moving!" the cries were from inside the Zone as they approached it, the mud squelching underneath their trainers whilst rain poured from a charcoal black sky. Thunder rumbled the very ground by the time they'd reached the concrete walls, the place they'd called home for a good seven years of their life, although it seemed like something was happening to that 'home' in their absence. A smell of blood entered their nostrils yet, out of either fear or ignorance, they attempted to squash against the wall and find some way to enter their 'beloved' residence.

Elion's eyes flickered over to his brother, "What's going on?!"

"How the fuck am I supposed to know?! Just get inside! Follow me!"

"Don't swear! Finn doesn't like it!"

The elder twin decided not to reply, his eyes glittering in the darkness of their secret entrance – it was a simple tunnel that led from the back of their house, which they'd found accidentally during a game of hide and seek. Frank hadn't wasted any time making sure it was safe to travel, clearing away any of the straggling Runners within so it could be of some use later on.

By the time they'd come into their home, the elder was more or less expecting what they were facing. The inside of their hovel was quiet of course, battened down at every corner so the 'Miracles' couldn't escape, yet they'd learnt how to unlock the doors at the age of five and soon found what was the matter.

Outside, on those dirty littered-strewn streets and amongst those barely working lampposts, there was a massacre going on. Frank deduced that the blood-splattered nurse's office had held an infected – perhaps a soldier that had hidden his wound, or a failed attempt at capturing a test subject – which obviously led to the death of hundreds of people, many that were the twin's friends.

"Where's…what's…Frank, what're we going to do?" Elion turned confident eyes to his brother, a hand firmly clenched on his blue jacket and his teeth gnawing at his soft pink lips. The look of trust there was a rare gem in the world they lived in.

"Well, Finn's fucked," the elder pointed at a frantic infected, trapped in an old stairwell where he'd met his fateful end. Blood poured from his mouth like a fountain as he struggled against the restraints, some of which he'd the key to unlock.

"Yeah, and what're we going to do?"

The silence reigned supreme for a moment. Frank tried to work out what they'd do next in his head, as if he'd never actually calculated that scenario before or how they'd escape from something similar.

"Back in the tunnel, Elion. We're going to find Dad."


	3. Tunnel

The stench of the tunnel was enormous. Frank and Elion could hardly see as they ducked through the frozen passages, their eyes cloaked by tears that came from such stinging scents, their breath shaky when they remembered the massacre behind them. It was only a matter of time before those Infected found the tunnels.

They had to make sure they were gone before that.

"Hurry up Elion," the elder twin hissed whilst stepping on another concrete block, one that had fallen sometime after their fourth birthday and they'd just never cleared up. Those fragments were starting to pile up further down the passageway – Frank thought fondly to himself that he'd never have to worry about that again, since it seemed they were escaping the need to venture through there.

"I'm trying! My feet are freezing!" it was true that a bitter chill hung in the air, following from a bitter wind that blew so harshly from the South and nipped viciously at their bones. Whatever 'speciality' the twins possessed had vanished now and, instead of working their ways to an admirable, miraculous future, both were wondering if they'd ever see the light of day again.

But Frank was determined to fight back, "Well they better stop freezing! If we don't get out of here, we're going to be mincemeat! Get your arse moving!" the elder scrambled over more jagged fragments as he spoke with glittering eyes, a heart set on the possibility that they might find their father. He was excited to meet the man they'd heard so much about. Perhaps he would be a successful military man himself, who had a whole army that just waited for his call? Or maybe he owned a fruitful string of post-apocalyptic shops; the kind that sold medicines, drugs, a few goods that had vanished mysteriously before?

Elion couldn't share his brother's optimism, of course. He had liked their life before, wrapped up in the arms of great stone safety and learning about how they were so special. Days passed rather blandly but on the whole, not much happened that they didn't know about. Finn always made sure that they were informed about things.

Now Finn was dead. The soldier that they'd known so well, the man who had protected them was gone forever, without so much as a fare-thee-well since they were out at the time. He probably would've been proud that the boys were escaping. He'd never agreed with the way they were treated – put up on a pedestal in front of all the others, as if they were God's gift to humanity after that new-fangled disease.

Finally, they reached a point where the elder didn't know where to go. It wasn't that he'd never been that far before; the cold, dank sewage had always been fairly straightforward to get through, even when there were plights of Infected running about or some hunters on the horizon. It was just that he didn't know whether or not he really wanted to leave.

He'd made a life in those walls, one that had friends and gave him every opportunity that was still available. Where there had once been misery and sadness stood hope, the hope that they could teach the young to make vaccines, that they'd be able to right the wrongs of DNA and start afresh. The twins had been treated like virtual Gods in their world.

Yet there they were now, their shoes deep in the waste of yesteryear and a dizzy sickness rising in their stomachs, contemplating the chance to go and find a man they didn't actually know. When they stepped out into that world…when they took their life into their hands, it wouldn't matter to Infected whether or not they were different. They'd just be another throat to tear out. Two, if they were lucky.

"Elion," Frank's eyes glistened in the darkness, "I…I don't know what to do."

It was the younger twin's time to shine. A few times things had panned out that way – Frank would suddenly become unsure of himself, leeched of the confidence that he so naturally possessed when they were faced with such a decision. Relief washed over his brother as the younger took his hand, smiling confidently at him whilst the air continued to billow out their noses.

"You've kept us breathing this long!" he pointed out softly, which made the elder brother chuckle slightly when he remembered their close calls. At the tender age of seven they'd come into contact with many things, mostly the Infected Clickers or a few slower-moving Runners, although Frank's fast thinking meant they always escaped in the nick of time. Elion could recall that he once lost a shoe in the race for survival, though it'd been quickly replaced and forgotten about before they could find the time to care.

"I have, haven't I?"

"And if anyone's going to get us to Dad now, it's going to be you. Come on Frankie! We can do it!" the sound of faith was amazing, since it'd been so long that the elder twin had heard it so clearly. Elion had the occasional slip of trust in his brother after a bad run around the tunnels, in which they'd lost most of their 'vital' clues plus an assortment of metal shards; however it didn't change them too much, considering that the younger hadn't decided to detach himself.

It didn't help Frank make a decision. There were two pathways in front of them – the way to the derelict train station straight ahead, or they could continue to the path straight to the city. Those old buildings would've been full of infected by then, especially after the army had decided to pull out of some of the major ones and focus on their smaller Zones.

Lot of good that did them.

"This way…we'll go this way," he pointed towards one darkened tunnel, hoping that no further questions would come out of his brother's mouth as they wandered, "It's the best way to go."

"Leads straight into the city," Elion replied.

"Exactly. Dad will be somewhere around there hopefully; maybe he didn't want to leave us? I don't know. I just…I'm just trying to get things going here, Elion."

"So Dad's an Infected?"

"No. Well, I don't know. Maybe. There's only one way to find out, isn't there?"


	4. In the Streets

The city wasn't as bad as everyone made it out to be. Frank and Elion's only troubles were with some clickers, many of which had still been stuck to the wall when they passed them and hadn't made too much noise during death, although the younger twin still jumped at every unexpected murmur.

As they dived between abandoned metal shutters, the boys were about ready to make their way to another Quarantine Zone. It'd only been four hours but they were growing tired of the monotonous nature of the city, the way that vines clung to the windows and the great constructs lay atop one another, whilst the sickening stench of what smelt like fresh air seemed to leech away at their Zone-appropriate senses.

Elion had remained quiet throughout the course of their journey. He'd hardly dared breathe as they wandered through the silent streets, much less bother his brother for the details of their survival. Instead the boy chose to gaze about, admiring the once-proud concrete that now lay smashed, making up stories in his head about pre-apocalypse lifestyles.

There were characters that worked within those places – once, before the outbreak, they'd had lives and families and jobs centred in the cities, although it seemed that nobody was content with what they had. They'd complain that their children hadn't made the football team or that their wife hadn't bought the right pair of trousers for them, before going about their mundane days in ways that wouldn't ever deviate from routine. Crisp white shirts, grey trousers and office jackets sprang to his mind whilst they wandered the silent streets of yesteryear; it was a time he'd wished he belonged to, where he would have had the chance to meet his two other siblings and know both his parents.

Finn had once told them the elderly couldn't walk the streets for fear of the young, who wore hoods made of shadows and carried knives from their kitchens. OAP's were in the cold whilst prisoners ate premium dinners, their faces hollow with hunger as the wrong-doers got fat off of their pensions.

The daydreaming child didn't notice when Frank called his name, still gazing as the older brother clambered frightfully over a metal table, "Elion! Elion! Move your arse Elion! There's Runners behind you!" by the time the younger had regained some of his senses, it seemed to be too late.

"What-" he was knocked to the side by a rapid hand, one that seemed to have the strength of ten men and the ferociousness of a lion. Blood-splattered faces thrust up against his as he viciously kicked away at whatever attacked him, even though he knew those Infected would soon break his defence. Frank could only watch the events in horror from where he sat, amongst the corpses of other unlucky survivors.

Whatever they'd been beforehand, those Infected weren't anything but targets. Like a frantic mother the elder twin searched, looking for something that would free his brother and get rid of the Runners, yet all he could find was a gun that held two rounds in it. There were two Infected that tried clawing at his brother's face – if he missed even a single shot, they would tear Elion in two without so much as a second thought. He pulled it from the belt of the long-dead policeman in front of him, who found his final resting place against the cool silver metal of someone else's desk.

"Hey, fuck-heads," he shouted, which made them turn with miffed expressions, "Stay away from my brother!"

Two shots sounded. Birds that had sat on the broken window sills fluttered, the streets that had been silent now alive with festering animals. Frank jumped from his hiding place with the smoky revolver clutched in his hands, whilst Elion could hardly move for the Infected on top of him. He daren't breathe as its glazed look stared down at him, the fresh hole in its head a reminder of his brother's uncanny aim.

"Are you alright?" Frank's blue eyes glimmered with fear as the younger kicked his way through, "You're not hurt?"

"They bit me…one of them…" Elion raised his arm to show a fresh new wound in the soft skin, one that already seemed as though it was flaring with the burn of a thousand suns. Another scream sounded through that discarded building – that time from the elder, who'd hoped that they'd never get to that point in their life.

"You're infected! You're going to…my own fucking brother…you're going to turn…"

"No!" tears built up in the familiar brown eyes, "I can't be infected! Maybe it's just a phase or something…I can't die here, Frank! I can't die here and not meet my dad! Please help me!"

But for once, Frank didn't have an answer. He didn't have a quick response that was calm his brother and he didn't have a quick solution to their problem – all he could think about was Elion eventually turning in his sleep, making mincemeat of the elder he loved so much.

"Come on…" he eventually murmured, "You're not dead yet, Elion. Follow me. We've still got a lot we can do before the two days are up."

So the younger scrambled to his feet, his head turned to flick the blonde hair out of his eyes. He couldn't imagine what it would feel like to turn; he could wonder if those deadly black walls would become more attractive once he did, or if his brother's throat would look so much more appealing when it was ripped open and spewing blood. But he didn't want it to come to that.

"Come on Elion. I'll protect you."

As the elder began walking the corridors again, that time with less enthusiasm in his steps, Elion whispered in reply, "I know you will. You always have."


	5. Three Years Further

Frank dived underneath the stinking water of the run down sewage plant, his eyes covered by some sort of swimming gear that he'd found in an old general shop. The blue plastic hugged his sockets as he propelled himself forward, zooming past the decomposed corpses of once-proud workers, sweeping his murky gaze over anything that could be of use.

Three years had passed since he'd watched his Zone being destroyed. Three years of his life had trickled by out in the wilds, where he had been forced to take drastic actions in order to survive. Cities proved to be suitable places to rest every now and again, perhaps not long term due to the overwhelming presence of Infected, but long enough for him to cool his heels and recuperate.

It was a city he swam in – a city that had once been the hub of all activity, a practical beehive for the drones that called themselves employees and the queens that called themselves bosses. Through the festering debris of what had been a sewage explosion he could see nametags, blue overalls and a few bravely clinging safety goggles, all latched on to one poor soul who had found himself stuck within the compressing equipment. What a sad way to die.

Floating up from the half-squished half-rotted thing, Frank finally breached the surface of the water. He gasped painfully as air rushed into his nostrils, clearing out any dirt that had made its way in there and threatened to creep further along the nasal cavity, before hitting his lungs in a way that made him feel like he'd been punched.

But he daren't make any noise. The familiar clicking of the Infected could be heard further along, behind an old gate that had been generously blocked by chains and old sewage equipment. He knew that, if the Clickers caught wind of his presence, it wouldn't be long before that rusted old thing would collapse and he'd find himself surrounded.

Light poured through a hole in the roof; it was just enough for Frank to make out the debris of what seemed like broken safety facilities around him, plus the raised platforms in which the workers would have once stood. Railings were still sturdy after all that time, all those maintenance checks that hadn't happened, all those clipboard officials that hadn't 'dinged' them and written some sort of report; it was a wonder that place hadn't come crashing to the ground before, if only because the workers would have quickly torn all those measures apart.

Shaking, the child pulled himself from the cold water and tried to gather his thoughts. He had come in search of medical supplies, hoping that there would have been something that he could grab and use when he found himself in a bad situation. He'd learnt long ago that he'd have to keep his eyes open…

_Click, click, click._

He turned, sharpened stick at the ready in case there was some lurking demon in the darkness. He could see neither fungus nor spore, teeth nor claw; the inside of that place seemed relatively peaceful, almost eerily so as he began to haul himself up the old step ladder and found his way to an old metal cupboard.

"JESUS CHRIST!" Frank heard the scream behind him a fraction of a second before it was uttered, as if his ears had become so sharp that they could predict the future. Like a madman he swung round with the stick, his eyes locked on to the rippled water whilst another head breached the surface. A sigh of relief past his lips when the black ink finally parted.

"What the Hell do you think you're doing?" with an outstretched hand he grabbed the second intruder, talking as though they hadn't planned his arrival, "You trying to get us both killed? There's Clickers in the next fucking room!"

The second scowled at him through the darkness, their only relief the fact that their eyes were slowly adjusting, "Don't swear at me! I don't like it!"

Frank sighed – it'd been three years since Elion had been bitten, and yet still there were no signs of his turning. On some nights, the elder brother couldn't bear to sleep, as if he would close his eyes and suddenly he'd lose the only thing that really mattered to him. On others, he would scream at his younger sibling that he wished the bite had turned him, that the only person he'd have to look out for during that journey was himself and their sizable rucksack.

The child's angelic blond hair swept noisily to the side, unkempt from their days of wandering and only washed by that black sludge of the sewers, "Have you found anything yet?"

"Oh yeah, I've found something in the twelve seconds I've been up here," the black-haired Devil replied with hints of sarcasm in his voice, hands on his neck as he tried to massage it, "Look at all the medical supplies; give me a hand hauling it?" Elion narrowed his brown eyes at his brother, wondering how they could have been twins when they were so different.

Throughout their three years of travelling, the blonde hadn't fallen victim to the ravages of disease. Though the bite had hurt – Jesus, it had been on fire for what felt like years – it'd quickly gone down, replaced by a black spill that looked like no more than a fountain pen accident. His brother commented that it was a miracle, and that they must have really been special twins if he had survived an Infected bite.

Yet Frank daren't try it himself. It wasn't the fact he was cowardly of getting bitten but, rather the fact that he couldn't bear to leave his brother. There was a tiny, tiny chance that he was immune as well; if he were to turn in the middle of the night, or even at all, Elion wouldn't have the heart to put a bullet between his eyes and kill his twin. Instead, he took up the mantle of his brother's protector, keeping them as safe as he could as they made their way through the cities, still on the ever-fruitless search for a father they barely remembered.

They had passed settlements along the way. Some were better than others, places that Elion could envision staying in and beginning their lives as farmhands, but Frank wouldn't stop for more than five days. That was his limit. Five days in a single place, and then it was time for them to get moving again. It had proven to be effective; normally they'd hear that the settlements had either been abandoned, attacked or burnt down soon after they left, although they never went back to investigate.

"No need to be sarcastic, Frank. I just want to get out of this place before the Infected know we're here," Elion picked up a broken rock from the floor, one that had once been an integral part of the roof.

"Yeah, well, that's no worry for you, Mister Immunity."

The younger's eyes narrowed at the nickname, despite the fact it was usually so lovingly said, "You could be immune too. Besides, it doesn't stop them from ripping my stomach open."

"You've got a point." That was one thing Elion admired about Frank – whenever he had been proven wrong, he always admitted it. It was one of those rarities that they barely came across those days, especially in the cases of men they had met.

A few hours were spent rummaging through the waste, and then even more on scavenging what was usable. Frank had perfect a method of making medical kits that Elion wouldn't have stumbled on by himself, granted they needed a workbench to do it in and a whole lot of time. Both were scarce in their case.

It was becoming dark by the time they had come out of the old sewage plant. With the last sprays of the can, Frank managed to scrawl on the grey concrete, '**Area cleared. Only Infected left inside.'** They didn't want anyone else dying in pursuit of medical supplies, particularly when they had already picked the place clean and had left nothing but the unusable stuff.

Elion decided to be brave and break the silence, "We better get back home. Infected get more active around the night."

"I know; I was the one who told you that."

"Still, it's best not to be surrounded by forest when it's night."

"Lead the way then, Mister Immunity."

They barely stumbled as they navigated their way through the undergrowth, travelling towards a small little shack that they had made their home in. They had…liberated it from the previous residents, the ones who had been bitten a day prior and couldn't bring themselves to kill one another, and had quickly worked to stay in it for their five day limit.

"I'll get the fire started," Elion began to undo the clasps of his bright blue coat, thickened by insulated materials though barely covering his torso, "It's freezing out there."

"Winter's on its way," the elder meekly commented as he settled down the salvaged materials, clicking his tongue noisily against his teeth when he tried to think on what he'd do next.

The corner of the heated shack was stuffed with animal meat, just enough to keep them alive for their stay, whilst a small makeshift table sat in the very middle of it, strained underneath the weight of Elion's little pastimes. All manner of dolls and stitched animal teddies sat on its splintered surface, yet nothing that the child ever cared to pick up and take with him.

Frank always assumed he left them for the other travelling children.

Silence reigned supreme as the light outside faded and naturally, a shroud of darkness began to creep around the forest. Huge trees flanked them on either side, big enough to keep out the invading morning rays and small enough to see the sky above, yet the elder brother couldn't help feeling enclosed by them. He had never liked nature very much. It was yet another thing that differentiated him from his sibling, who would have loved to live in a cave at some point in his life.

"Hungry?" the aroma of freshly cooked deer wafted around the shack whilst Frank drew the curtains, daring to light a candle so that he could see his brother's offering.

"Not very. You eat it."

"There's enough here for both of us, Frank. I always make enough so you can eat too."

"Have all of it, then. I'll eat at breakfast."

Elion stared nervously for a moment longer, his thoughts on a path that would likely lead to an argument between the two, before he simply turned and began tucking into the bloody meat. He was a good cook by those standards – with the spices they had found throughout the years and the coupling of a few homemade secrets, he'd manage to perfect meals that were almost delicious. If only he could convince Frank to eat more.

Clicking sounds were uttered outside. At one point they would have made the brothers nervous, perhaps enough to grip their sharpened sticks in preparation, but by that point both had passed caring. The Clickers rarely ventured too close to their cabins; even if they did, they could never hope to open a simple door, much less try and struggle through the complicated trap mechanisms that Frank came up with. It was a lost cause worrying about things.

"Where's the nearest town?"

"About five miles away. We could get there as early as tomorrow night."

"What's it called?" Elion clambered over the dusty wooden floor, over towards the map that his brother kept so closely to his lap, "I didn't think there was another town for miles."

"It's Lincoln, and no; there's not another city for miles away. That one's Boston. I've heard there's a Zone near there but, whether it's still up after that Firefly attack…"

The children silenced. They had run into Fireflies a number of times, and each one left them with a deepening hatred. It seemed that all those men wanted to do was take them to their leader, tell her about their connection before dissecting them for secrets, which made Frank instantly untrusting to part with his brother's condition.

"Lincoln? Sounds…nice?" he smiled, trying to get their conversation away from the prospect of Fireflies.

"Shouldn't sound nice, considering the fact there's so many Infected there. We'll be lucky if we get through there without a couple of bites…that shouldn't a problem for you, Mister Immunity."

There was bitterness in Frank's voice, yet not so obvious that Elion could catch onto it, "Well, hopefully there'll be someone there we can work with. Making our way to Boston!"


	6. Wild Child

Lincoln was only five miles away, but without a car it felt like one hundred. Frank knew that the safest method was to stay in the forest away from the main roads, where many of the old Infected had stayed after their unfortunate deaths, but Elion wasn't so sure that the trees would provide the best protection. What if they ran into hunters? What if they got bitten on the way? Granted that wasn't so much of a problem for him…

"Are you sure this is the right way?" he asked after they passed yet another gnarled tree, its bark scratched and torn by what he could only assume to be Infected, "I'm sure we've seen that big boulder at least once."

Frank looked beside him to spy the giant rock, dripping with all manner of rainwater and collected moss. It must have been one of the old tactics that people employed before the outbreak; something about conserving nature in all its glory, how they had destroyed it with their constant energy needs and ravaged what had once been an orchard of creation.

"I'm pretty sure we're on the right track," he muttered, "Just keep following me. I've never steered us wrong before."

The words meant nothing to Elion. He remembered a time when his brother had caused death because of his decisions, many months ago when they had stumbled upon a growing farm settlement. A woman of about fifty five had welcomed them into her home with open arms and – because of his jealousy, Elion assumed – Frank had cut the electrified barbed wire of her fences some days later, stealing her food away whilst the whole place collapsed under Infected. The woman had died.

But they had survived.

"We do what we have to," the elder brother had told him some time after the incident, when they were setting up camp in an abandoned house and tucking into their last meal of the day, "I'm trying to protect us both, Elion. She would've cut our throats when we slept, then where would we be?"

The blonde-crested child bit his tongue before he had the chance to growl, "Where we belong."

Hours passed, and still they wandered almost blindly into the forest. Trees began to mould together as they dived through each individual path, a growing pain in Elion's stomach when he imagined running into the Infected and how Frank would save them this time; by the skin of his teeth, no doubt.

But soon enough, there were no more questions in his voice, "You're lost. And if you're lost, that means I'm lost too."

"I'm not lost. I just don't know where we are as much as I could," Frank never cared for his brother's worrying ways. He knew that they had to keep a clear head when they went about things, especially since they made most of their homes within city walls and kept moving throughout the daytime. What use would Elion be if he couldn't even focus?

Sometimes, Frank wondered if being a twin was worth it…

The silence droned on. They hardly dared speak as darkness began descending over their pathways, blocking them from fully seeing the roads and ensuring that they were walking even more blindly into danger. Infected clicks could be heard further past the trees – if they weren't careful, Frank could lead them straight into death…

Suddenly, there was a crack behind them. The children turned, armed with their sharpened sticks and baring their teeth like they were wild cats, but what they saw behind them wasn't an Infected. Rather, it wasn't something they had seen in a long time.

"Woah, put the sticks down," the assailant's voice was soft like honey, soothing as they kept their gazes locked on the face and spears aimed for the heart, "I'm not going to hurt you."

"Back off then."

"You want to get yourself killed? 'Cause that's what you'll do if you keep going up; nothing but Clickers."

It wasn't an evildoer. It was just a girl, a girl that was close to their age and looked as though she could have been a lot older. With fiery ginger hair and a freckled face, she wore some sort of green dress that had been fashioned from the ivy around her, like a practical forest-child born from the undergrowth. Her slender fingers held what seemed to be a weapon, although she wasn't quick to explain it was just a piece of charcoal tied to a small twig.

Frank glared into her eyes for what seemed like an age, his steely blue gaze close to daggers through her white skin. She smiled despite her discomfort. The trees whistled with the growing wind around them, urging him to speak quickly before they all froze to death and hoping that the children made their way to somewhere safe.

At least, that's what Elion thought.

"Who are you?" the younger eventually took over from his dumbstruck brother, "Have you been following us?"

She smiled more warmly towards the angelic boy, "Only for the past twenty minutes or so. You guys looked a little lost. Well, by a little, I mean you've been walking around the same path ever since I started following you guys."

Frank's cheeks burned with embarrassment when she spoke. For once he was thankful for the low visibility, since it seemed as though he had just made a fool of both himself and the brother he tried to protect. The fiery red forest-girl didn't seem so shocked though – perhaps it had happened to many passers-by in her time, though she didn't say they weren't the first people she had come across.

"Going far?"

"Lincoln. We wanted to be there by nightfall."

"Really? Lincoln? You better come crash at my place then."

"Why?" Frank's snarl interrupted their pleasant conversation, his eyes ablaze as he pushed his brother to the side, "How do we know you're not going to steal our weapons and slit our throats?"

"Oh, because I'm so threatening?" her slightly taller frame meant that Frank was a good inch shorter than her, although she still felt a tremble of intimidation from him, "Just swallow your stupid pride and follow me. There's enough food at my place to go around, and I've not had company for a few weeks. It should be fun."

Elion looked at his brother for a reaction. For a moment it looked like he might have refused, turned on his heels and disappeared through the undergrowth, where that taller girl knew he would meet his untimely end. There weren't just a few Clickers dotted along the path. There were traps, killers, hunters, poisonous bugs and even an assortment of freshly Infected, which meant that any hope they had of reaching Lincoln lay within the day.

Without thinking, the younger clutched his elder brother's forearm and looked at him with those pleading eyes.

And that was enough for Frank, "Fine. But don't get comfortable with us being around. We're gone by tomorrow."


	7. Rude Awakening

Elion felt the wind escape his lungs as a warm lump collapsed on him, so heavy that he momentarily thought it was an Infected. When he gazed wildly about at the mud-hut surroundings, the childish drawings that decorated brown and sticky walls and the few appliances that had been placed on rickety cabinets, he quickly remembered where he was. And then there was that flash of dark hair as the weight on top of him moved, the wicked smile noticeable in the sunlight that streamed from the windows.

"She's asleep," he whispered evilly into the boy's ear. It was in that instant that the ruthless Frank returned; the Frank that Elion knew existed, hidden deep down beneath his protective exterior and making appearances when he deemed appropriate, though not a Frank that he particularly feared. It was the calm, quiet Frank that scared him as that one was unpredictable, unrelenting when he delivered what he saw as justice.

"Don't," the frantic plea came out as quietly as Frank's words, desperate to allow the girl to slumber and not cause offense. Without thinking he grabbed his brother's arm, the urgency in his eyes rivalling the beating of his heart.

The girl – her name Ellen, as she had revealed sometime after dinner – hadn't done anything to anger the dark crested traveller, except perhaps existing. Baffling as it was, Frank didn't much care about her food supplies or her knowledge of the forest that lay around them, where all the Clickers chose to hide in both night and day; it only mattered to him that she'd one day become a threat to his brother. That's what everyone did when they found out they were twins.

He wished he could tell Elion those things. He wished that he could tell his little brother that the kindly old woman on the farm had planned to kill them, what with her fattening food and the many attempts to make them relinquish their blades. For a long time Frank had battled with himself; hours before he had killed the forty five year old, he had come across her journal and in his boyish curiousity, he had read it, only to find out that she planned to kill them and unlock the valued 'secrets' of the twin's genes. The decision was a hard one to make. But it wasn't something he regretted when he looked at the angelic face of his little brother, the only perfect thing in that insane world.

And he wouldn't let his morals get involved, "Turn around, El. I promise this'll be quick. I'll…I'll make sure it doesn't hurt." Oh how he hated the way his voice almost broke, how he almost lost his demeanour. He would rather Elion thought he was evil than weak. At least that way he would trust his judgement and not argue against it, especially when it was a life or death situation.

So Elion simply turned with bitter tears in his eyes. Frank almost comforted him, almost said something that he knew he'd regret, but he caught himself just in time to turn and grab the sharpened stick in the corner.

Ellen slept on the bed. It was a simple bed made of vines and ivy and a few pieces of driftwood, mostly found from her two kindly mothers that had sadly passed away. The pillow under her head was stitched by them; a pink and white thing that they had once given their own daughter, who had become infected in the first few weeks and, in an act of mercy, they had put down before she could cause any harm. Ellen reminded them of that sweet girl they once knew.

In her dreams, she saw them again. They were telling her of how they had come across her – she was but a baby crying under the infected, lost in a small crack in some old highway that was just big enough for her form. The monsters above raged, trying to kill her, trying to get the sweet child that they might have at one time cooed over, before those two courageous women had slaughtered them and saved the precious infant. They christened her Ellen after their own daughter, Elaine, and crafted the mud-hut after some travelling to raise her in.

"I'm sorry," Frank whispered into her soft white ear, "I wish I didn't have to do this."

By chance, his hand moved to touch her covered shoulder. Something bumpy was underneath it. He flinched, unsure what to make of the situation as he gently peeled back the fabric and looked down.

What he saw made him scream.

"You bitch!" he screamed as he jumped back, sharpened stick pointed to the girl rousing from her slumber, "You fucking bitch! I bet you thought I'd never find that, did you?" her strap fell down to reveal what Frank was talking about and Elion, though more understanding, was speechless.

A bite. Ellen was infected.

"It's not what it looks like!" she screamed despite the boy's shouts, "It's not! Shut up – you'll attract the Runners!"

"Looks to me like you'll be one yourself soon enough! Give me one good reason why I shouldn't throw you outside right now!" Frank's stick still pointed to the supple white skin of her throat, freckled only by one mark and sporting a thousand cuts. Her gulp made the lithe muscles convulse momentarily and Elion admired her for a moment, though it was a brief moment.

Her words came out small, "Because it's my house."

At first, there was silence. And then there was a sort of disbelieving laugh from Frank as he slowly doubled over, the laughter becoming more and more until it eventually consumed him. Elion watched in slight interest as his older brother became undone, the fierce blush on Ellen's cheeks noticeable despite her relief.

"Your house…" he chuckled softly after what seemed like an age. Straightened and poised, he looked much more like a young military man than anything else, his eyes piercing with dark hair like his mind.

"Yes, _my_ house," Ellen repeated indignantly, "My house that I let you two sleep in last night. Why were you even looking at my shoulder?! What kind of sicko does that?!" Oh she had been warned by her mothers; men would come with prying hands but she had to resist them, had to fight them back if she wanted to remain true for the one she loved. The icy brown glare she got in return told her she had overstepped a line, yet she found no reason to feel sorry about it.

"I might be a lot of things girl, but I'm not a rapist," he looked to Elion for support but found him too shocked to say anything, so he settled for crossing his arms, "How long?"

"Excuse me?"

"Your bite. How long ago were you bitten?"

"Oh…" she squinted in front of him as though judging his position, "I've had it since I was a baby. My moms found me like it."

"And they didn't kill you?"

"No."

"Lucky you. I would've killed you," there was that cold detachment in his eyes that told her he would have, and probably wouldn't have felt remorse after. Little did she know that was the cold front Frank put up in front of people; little did she know the cogs working in the child's brain, the hundreds of hours he had spent sitting up and weeping for what he'd done.

Silence descended over them for a moment. Elion hated silence so much that he decided he had to break it; to Hell with the consequences as he pulled up his sleeve and revealed his own bite, so alike to Ellen's that they twisted like tree roots in the skin and paled to that hideous pink.

She gazed at him softly for a moment before muttering, "You're like me…" it was with a little nod that he confirmed it and suddenly she was beside him, hugging him like she'd never let go whilst Frank could only watch, arms crossed and face tight with fury.

In that instant, he saw Elion slip away from him. He saw the whole reason he was alive vanish before his very eyes, disappear into the deep abyss that was his mind and, as though he didn't really have a life before his brother, all meaning was gone. Elion had found Ellen, a girl who was like him. Someone who'd been bitten and survived. Frank couldn't say that.

"You're both immune," he commented, "We're twins."

"You're immune too?" light flooded her eyes, a new found respect for the boy that had given her so much trouble. It was a little shake of the head that he gave, followed by an explanation that he hadn't been bitten to test it out.

Elion smiled, "We're twins though, so he's probably immune. We used to be quadruplet-"

"But that's neither here nor there. What matters right now is the present – you're immune, and we can't leave an immune girl here."

"Why not?" her challenge was clear and her eyes were confused, like she didn't want to leave the forest that she called home.

His crossed arms didn't loosen, "Because you're immune. If you get caught for being Miss Immunity, they'll snatch you up and lock you in some cage to breed more immune babies. The boys will go work. The girls will be locked in cages next to you and forced to breed babies. It's cycle and you'll start it."

The image of some dirty little cage covered in blood and gore made her shiver, not to mention the streams of endless big men that would be fathers to said babies. What Frank painted was an image of the future, and she'd be the mother of that future. But her choices mattered to.

And to be honest, she felt a connection with Elion. She didn't want to leave him just then.

"You're right," she eventually sighed as she rose, the mud-hut around her holding memories that she didn't quite want to let go. There was a picture hidden under her bed that showed her mothers, with their daughter Elaine before the infection hit, and she wondered if he would mind her taking that. She wouldn't ask Elion because it was obvious he wasn't in charge.

"We move out in two hours," Frank gazed about at the place, "Make that three. Should give you enough time to say goodbye to the place."

"It's been quite a ride," she sighed deeply. It was then that she felt Frank's warm fingers clasp around her arm and his smile stretch, so rare for someone he wasn't trying to protect.

"It'll be a better ride with us," he promised quietly, "Welcome to the club, sis."


	8. Lincoln

Ellen watched Frank vault over the crumbled wall in front of them, dispatching the Infected that stumbled about as clumsily as a drunk man in a previous time. She kept her gaze on him when blood splattered across his face – it was the look of a wild thing, to wear such fluid almost as easily as he would wear a baseball cap.

"These things are disgusting," the dark crested boy's voice spat, his lips moving a fraction of a second after the words left him like he commanded all time, all concept of what it was that ruled their universe. Unlike so many she had seen before him, Frank seemed to have his wits about him.

That was more than could be said for Elion, "Do you really have to make so much noise, Frank?" the angelic boy's arms were folded over his chest and he tutted disapprovingly, as if he preferred the Infected's stumbling to his brother's words, "You're going to attract more of them."

"Well I'm sorry Mister Immunity; not all of us can be like you two," he retorted with a slight note of envy in his voice, perhaps even jealousy. What did he have to be jealous about? Dark blue eyes betrayed the truth of his fierce nature as he looked at his brother, willing all affection out of him so that he could fix a hard stare and somehow look in control. He couldn't lose everything in the space of a second. He couldn't break down in that forgotten car park like its vehicles, so long ago abandoned by their owners that the tyres had rotted and the batteries were destroyed, rain water forcing the top to rust into an orange portrait of death and decay.

"You might be immune too," Ellen couldn't help trying to give him a small shred of hope, since it seemed like hope was exactly what he needed, "You're probably immune if Ellion's your twin."

He managed a twisted smirk as he took his stick's handle, yanking it fiercely from the Clicker's head with a sickening split before he pivoted on his heels, "If you were in my position, would you test that theory?"

Silence descended over them, and he knew he had won. Without looking at one another the pair followed, eager to watch the madman and his perilous plight against the Infected, intrigued by his general lack of empathy for the creatures that were once people.

The cracks in the tarmac were wide. If they weren't so carefully watching they would have fallen in, like Ellen had when she was but an infant, the thought making her shiver under the withering gaze of Frank. He watched each of her reactions for want of knowing her better; he had become an excellent character reader, which was one of the only reasons they stayed alive. Elion would have gotten them killed long before if it weren't for his brother's adaption skills, especially since he seemed the sort to live in a cosy Zone under the watch of armed guards.

"You cold?"

She looked up to be confronted with dark brown eyes, suddenly on her like flies on a corpse. It took a long while for her to shake her head but he didn't seem to mind, stopping his blonde haired brother from continuing so he could look at her more closely and somehow, deep down in her soul, penetrate everything that made her Ellen.

"What's wrong?" he asked softly, so much more softly than she thought him capable. The situation was ridiculous – not hours ago that same boy had intended to kill her, yet now he was asking what bothered her. If only she could find the strength to laugh, she would have done so for hours.

Frank waited patiently for his companion to reply. They had nowhere to be save Lincoln, and that place was a good twenty minutes' walk away. The sun shone brightly down on them as they stood in a silent faceoff, blue eyes on her green like he was searching for her answer, like he didn't need her to answer him to know what she was all about. He had guessed everything. He had guessed everything and all she could do was stare, wondering what he was thinking. Frank wasn't a boy. He was more like a man in disguise.

"I didn't think I'd find someone immune," she admitted quietly after what seemed like an age, her face falling to look at the sun bleached black ground below them, "Now you've told me they'll…they'll try and breed more like us…it's all too much." He nodded calmly. Was it just Ellen or did he always seem calm? Even when he shouted and screamed at her for being infected, he still had that certain air of tranquillity about him, acceptance to the highest nature. It truly frightened her to think someone could do that.

"Life's a bitch," he noted as his brother fell to the floor for a seat, "It's always going to suck; all we got to do is make sure it doesn't suck too much. You remember this place?" he waved his hands to the area around him, thick with the un-screamed cries of the long dead and the faint rattling of Runners on another section.

"My moms found me in a place like this."

"Ah."

Silence fell over them again. For a moment it seemed like he would press further, but he must have thought better of it – soon they were on the move again, picking their way carefully through broken car and ancient corpse, mummified for the rats that swarmed them.

Elion was curious about Ellen. She was like him and yet, when he looked her, her appearance suggested she would never be the same. As he watched her gazes at Frank and thought for a moment, a second that she could have found some sort of favour with him, the boy just pushed it to the back of his mind. His brother would be furious if he thought the girl liked him as anything more than an acquaintance and would-be killer; it was that childish innocence that Frank condemned more than anything. He said it got people killed.

He was right, too.

"Our dad's out there," the blonde haired child whispered to her when Frank scouted ahead, "We're looking for him."

"What happened to quadruplets? Where's the other two?" curiousness plagued her eyes when she gazed at the boy or, rather, a quarter of a set.

He looked sad when he replied, "Dead. Died as babies. Frank…Frank doesn't care much about it, but I do. They were my sister and my brother. They didn't deserve that."

And that was when the boy screamed as Frank yelled in triumphant, jumping like a madman as he gazed over the jagged edge of the motorway and shouted, "LINCOLN! SWEET MOTHER MARY AND HER HOLY COMPEDRES – IT'S LINCOLN!"


End file.
